I am Who I am
by rdegrassif
Summary: Clare and Eli are all grown up and raising a family of their own. When their daughter, Erica, is diagnosed with an eating disorder, how will the family react?


**Erica's POV**

I looked in the mirror, seeing my fat face, my fat lips, my fat nose, my fat ears. I cried, and screamed. Being home alone has its privileges. My sister, Raquel, was out with her parent-disapproving boyfriend. Alex Fitzgerald was the one kid she just HAD to date. His parents were conveniently Bianca and Mark Fitzgerald. The two people my parents despise. Raquel is the rebel of my 2 siblings. She has dark black hair like my dads, and BIG green eyes. She has a slim body, which I am SOO jealous of, and small thin lips. She loves disobeying my parents, but is, ironically, the smartest of all of us. She "hates" to read, but I always catch her reading classic books like pride and prejudice, and little woman. She is the oldest, 17, and a senior in High School. My brother, Brody, is the youngest, being 13. He is young for his freshman grade, but the tallest of them all. He has light brown hair like my mom, and slightly shaggy hair that goes right before his eyebrows. He has big blue eyes, and normal sized lips. He, being so tall, is extremely thin, but he eats like a horse. He skateboards, ALL OF THE FREAKIN' TIME. He isn't that smart, but is an all star in basketball. He is very tall, and ironically is the most posed of us all.

I, on the other hand, have a mix of my parent's eyes. My moms shaped eyes, but my dads color. I personally, hate my eyes. My nose, like my mother, is an Irish nose. It is small and round, and not bad at all. I have a big face, and bee stung lips. I honestly, hate myself. Even at 15, I am still in my awkward faze. I think I will never come out of it. I used to think, hey, I was born this way baby. Like Lady Gaga. But I got over it, and now I think I am just well, ugly. All I see is ribs under my big boobs, but I still feel like I am fat. I SEE it. So I try not to eat. But then I get hungry. So I eat, and eat. Then I feel full. I mean, really really full. So I've been throwing it up. No more problems, right? Wrong.

**Clare's POV**

Ever Since my middle daughter, Erica, turned 8, I knew something was wrong. She all ways looked in the mirror. Not in a conceded way, but I a self-hatred way. She would frown, and grab her non-existent belly. Eli and I always worried about her. But now, we worry more than ever. Erica, I have to say, is absolutely beautiful. And I am not just saying that because she is my daughter. When we walk down the street. People turn heads because of her. She has beautiful green eyes, and thick gorgeous lips. She is the thinnest of my kids, on purpose. I've sat down with Eli, and cried my heart out. She has almost died multiple times because of her anorexia and bulimia. We can't do anything. We tried therapists, doctors, specialists, and everything else possible. We've tried to talk to her, she won't listen. We don't know what to do.

Tonight, Eli and I decided to spend some alone time together while our daughter, Raquel, went on a date with Fitz's son. Although we couldn't be more disappointed, it is her life. Brody was out at basketball practice, and we left Erica home alone. I couldn't have had a WORSER time worrying about her doing something to harm herself. "I can't do this. What if she does something to herself?" I said, worryingly. "Clare, you've stayed home with her, you even slept in her bed two nights in a row last week. You need a break. The baby needs as break." Eli said, looking at my swollen stomach. I was pregnant again, I was only 5 months, but I looked 7. I smiled. "I know I know, I just worry. You know?" "Of course I know Clare. Don't forget. She is my daughter too. We just, need to trust she wont do anything." "Alright alright. Just, can we come home in an hour?" I said reluctantly. "Of course." I smiled. Even after 13 years of being married, Eli still made me blush. I know what your thinking. 13 years? But your daughter is 17. Yeah, I got pregnant at 20. So what? We are happy. Besides, I got pregnant again, and this time I'm 37. Normal, right? Wrong. Our family is far from normal.

**Eli's POV**

Clare looked so flustered that she looked like she was going to pass out. I swear, if she weren't pregnant, she would sacrifice herself for anyone of our kids at any moment. That's what I loved about her. She always cared no matter what. Clare was always so conservative, but when we were dating for 3 years, she decided to take off her purity ring and have some fun. At first, we regretted having sex. Mostly because she got pregnant in her second year of college. I felt I was holding her back, she is such a genius I thought that if we got married, I would tie her down. She refused to push me out of the picture. So we got married when Raquel was four years old. We got eloped instead of having a wedding because we felt that we shouldn't have to declare our love for each in front of tons of people. We knew what was between us, and that's all that mattered. Then Clare got pregnant again. When Erica was born, I swear it was one of the best days of my life. She was beautiful, even gorgeous, and she was ours. The girls were very close when they were younger because they were only 24 months apart, they were practically inseparable. The big one with the straight hair and dimples, and the short one with the ringlets and big green eyes. Erica and Adams daughter, Jenny, were the best of friends in grade school. But in Middle School, Erica was diagnosed with anorexia and bulimia, and Jenny and Erica both drifted from each other. Erica stopped being with friends; she would just lock herself in her room. When Alexander was born, Erica was two years old. Ever since then, you could tell she envied not being the baby anymore. Alex was my son, my boy. He carried all the traits I wish I did when I was his age, but I could tell Erica's heart ripped a little each time Alex was praised for something Erica never did. But Erica didn't understand she was magnificent in other things too. She was a brilliant artist, and a great poet. She has actually won awards for her artwork and poetry, but she never cared.

An hour passed, and Clare hopped up from her chair. She then doubled over in pain. " Clare, relax, we'll get home as soon as we can." She smiled calmly and grabbed her bag. We got in our car and drove home. As soon as we got home Clare bolted up the stairs and knocked on Erica's door. "It's mom." She said in a playful singsong voice. Erica laughed from behind the door. She opened it up. She actually looked healthier. I smiled and Clare gave her a big hug. "How do you feel?" She put her hand on her daughter's forehead. "You look a little peakish." "Mom, I'm fine," she laughed lightly placing Clare's hand on her side. Clare sighed and patted her shoulder and went downstairs. "Look, I know your mom seems a little, uhm, high strung, but she is only doing this for your best." "I know I know, I'll be more sensitive." She sighed. "Wanna know a way to get her to stop all together? Come to dinner with the whole family tomorrow night." "Dad. I can't just turn this off. I don't even know if I can fight it." I didn't feel like fighting with her. I sighed. "Well discuss it in the morning, okay?" "Alright" She said. I started walking down the stairs. "Love you" she spat out. I smiled my signature smile she inherited. "Love you too."


End file.
